Chapter 21 #2
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to organize his thoughts. Kelly wasn't being rational about this, and he couldn't understand why. His family background wasn't some terrible secret he had deliberately concealed. It was just information that hadn't come up yet.
"I never lied to you. And in my defense, you didn’t think any of those details about my family were all that important until you talked with your father tonight."
Kelly crossed her arms tightly across her chest, her defensive posture matching the hardness in her eyes.
"Don't turn this around on me. Don't act like I should have investigated you."
“I’m not saying you should have,” Ben replied. “I’m saying that none of this was important until now. Eventually, we would have naturally told each other more about ourselves, our past, our future dreams.”
"It's important because my dad told me," Kelly finally said, her voice cracking slightly. "He was so damn smug, too. He could tell I was shocked. He knew something about you that I didn't, and he used it to make me feel stupid, like I always make poor choices."
And there it was.
The real issue wasn't about Ben's family at all; it was about Kelly's relationship with her father and his apparent delight in catching her off guard. Ben's expression softened with understanding.
"Kelly," he said quietly, "maybe your anger is better directed at your father than at me."
Her tears began to fall then, streaking down her cheeks in silvery trails. She made no move to wipe them away, letting them run unchecked.
He had a strong urge to wrap his arms around her, comfort her in some small way, but when he took a step forward, she retreated.
"What difference does it make?" she asked, her voice small and broken.
"No one in my family cares about me. I'm just a pain in the ass to all of them.
I must have been a pain to Lori, too. That's why she didn't tell me about being pregnant, why she didn't confide in me about the other guy.
I thought I was her best friend, but I was just another person she kept at arm's length. "
The sudden shift from their argument to her deeper pain caught Ben off guard.
He stood helplessly, watching as the tough exterior she'd maintained all day crumbled.
Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, and he wanted to tell her she was wrong.
That she mattered. That she wasn't a pain to anyone, least of all to him.
But he hesitated, knowing that his comfort, physical or verbal, wasn’t welcome at the moment. She backed away, and he wasn’t the type to press. If she didn’t want him near her, he wasn’t going to argue the point.
Their relationship, whatever it was, had suddenly become complicated in ways he hadn't anticipated. The easy companionship of the last few days seemed like a distant memory now.
"That's not true," he said finally, "Your family may not show it well, but they care about you. And Lori loved you. She was just going through something difficult and wasn't ready to share it."
Kelly shook her head, refusing to accept his reassurance.
"You don't know that. You never met Lori. You don't know my family. You don't know me."
The words stung more than they should have, but he couldn’t completely argue. A month ago, they’d been strangers in a high-rise building.
"Kelly," he tried one more time, keeping his voice gentle. "I understand you're upset, but pushing me away isn't going to solve anything. Let’s sit down. Just talk. I’ll listen."
"It will solve one thing," she replied, wiping angrily at her tears. "It'll give me space to think without you standing there making excuses."
Ben felt his own anger flare again. He wasn't making excuses; he was trying to explain. There was a difference, but Kelly seemed determined not to see it. The muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth, fighting back words he might regret later.
"Fine," he said after a moment, forcing his voice to remain calm. "If space is what you need, I can give you that. But this conversation isn't over."
Kelly turned away from him, arms wrapped around herself as if warding off a chill. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was distant and controlled.
"It might be."
The words hit Ben with unexpected force. He hadn’t realized she had the power to hurt him so deeply.
But she did. His feelings for her ran deep, despite not having known each other for months or years. Something about her unique combination of toughness and vulnerability called out to him, reaching for his heart.
"I don't want you here right now," Kelly said, her voice low but firm.
She wasn't looking at him anymore, her gaze fixed on some point beyond his shoulder. The finality in her tone left no room for argument.
Ben opened his mouth to protest, to reason with her, but stopped himself. What would be the point? She had made up her mind, at least for tonight, and he recognized the futility of pushing further.
"Okay," he said, struggling to keep his voice neutral. "I'll go, but I'm taking the car."
The practicality of the situation asserted itself through his hurt feelings. They were still in Bergen, miles from New York, with only one rental car between them. His shoulders slumped slightly as he processed what this meant. He would need to find a hotel for the night.
And maybe change his return flight tickets to an earlier date.
Kelly remained motionless, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Fine. Take it."
"Text me tomorrow when you're ready to talk," he offered, still hoping this was a temporary break, a cooling-off period rather than a definitive end.
"It's too late for talking," Kelly replied, her voice cold and distant.
Ben felt his stomach tighten at her words. Too late? How had they gone from making love on couch cushions to this stark finality so quickly?
It wasn’t the first time he’d had a relationship end, but for some reason, this one hurt much more. He nodded once, accepting the reality of the situation if not its logic.
"I need to get my things."
Moving with deliberate calm, Ben walked to the bedroom where his suitcase lay open on the floor. He gathered his clothes, folding each item with mechanical precision before placing it in the bag. His toiletries came next, collected from the bathroom counter.
Through it all, he maintained a facade of composure, though his hands trembled slightly as he zipped the suitcase closed.
He could feel Kelly watching him from the doorway, her presence a silent weight in the room.
She stood with her arms crossed, refusing to look directly at him.
The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife.
What would his father do in this situation? If he called Seth Reilly at this exact moment, what advice would his dad give?
Probably give her the space she wanted while making sure she knew he was still there if needed. Seth Reilly had never believed in forcing confrontations, especially with women.
"Give them room to breathe, son," he'd said more than once. "Most problems look different after a good night's sleep."
Ben hoped that was true in this case, though a nagging doubt told him this wasn't a simple misunderstanding that would disappear with morning light. This was something…more. He didn’t know exactly what, but Kelly was lashing out like a wounded animal.
Lori? Her family? Or maybe it was about him, after all. He just might be a piece of shit,
He couldn’t rule that option out.
He gathered the last of his belongings and headed toward the door. Kelly moved aside to let him pass, maintaining the physical distance between them.
"Then text me if you need the car to go to the wedding and if you still want me there," he said, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.
Kelly's expression remained impassive.
"I'll figure it out."
Three words that somehow conveyed volumes. I'll figure it out. Without you. I don't need you.
“I’m sure you will.”
He took one last look at her, searching for any sign that she might be softening, any indication that she wanted him to stay despite her words.
Her face was a mask, tear-stained but resolute.
Whatever connection they had built over the past weeks seemed to have vanished, replaced by this chilly formality.
"Goodbye, Kelly," he said finally, and stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.
The click of the latch sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet corridor. Ben stood motionless for a moment, half expecting, half hoping the door would open again. That Kelly would call him back, say she had overreacted, that they should talk this through.
The door remained closed.
There was no point in pretending that something hadn’t shifted drastically between them. Whatever they’d felt and experienced last night was over,
There was no reason to hang around.
So much for taking chances and spontaneity. He’d stick to his lists, spreadsheets, and schedules from now on.
They’d never once broken his heart.